


For All of My Days I'll Be Happy to Hold You

by lustspayne



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Artist Zayn, Fluff, M/M, Policeman Niall, Valentine's Day, a lot of angst on zayn's part really, can you blame him though?, he just wants to treat his prince right, idk what to tag this, just enjoy the fluff, niall's really irish, zayn is a stress case
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-26
Updated: 2015-01-26
Packaged: 2018-03-09 05:12:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3237575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lustspayne/pseuds/lustspayne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Zayn is beyond prepared to make his Valentine's Day date with Niall the best night ever. Everything that could possibly go wrong, goes wrong, but Niall thinks the world of him for trying so hard for him.</p><p>Or the one where Zayn stresses far too much about a certain holiday, but Niall somehow always knows how to cheer him up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For All of My Days I'll Be Happy to Hold You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> I'm happy to say that my first fic on AO3 is a Ziall fic!
> 
> Much thanks to the fic exchange for getting me to write again after a long period of writer's block, even if it is only a few thousand words.
> 
> To my recipient, happy Valentine's Day! I hope you enjoy the Ziall fluff!
> 
> A thousand thanks to my beautiful friend [Charlie](http://archiveofourown.org/users/bleedingpens) who offered up their time to beta my work. As a thank you for their time, I've given them a tiny role in the fic. Actual lines from conversations that they and I have had were also placed in here, I hope you find them humorous!
> 
> Another thousand thanks to [Ellie](http://zaynwhisperedbrave.tumblr.com/), who spent so much time Britpicking my fic and even taking the effort to write out Niall's accent!
> 
> Any and all remaining mistakes are mine and mine only.
> 
> Fic title is taken from the song Shelter by Hedley.
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at [awpayne](http://awpayne.tumblr.com).
> 
> Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy!

Zayn really does not want to be awake right now.

He opens his eyes, blearily focusing on the big 3:45AM that flashes on his phone, and oh no, he most definitely does not want to be awake right now.

Zayn swiftly shuts off the quiet alarm sounding from his mobile, and rolls over to look at the sleeping boy beside him. Niall breathes heavily against his pillow, oblivious to the fact that Zayn's awake and moving in bed. He can’t help but smile at how much younger and softer Niall looks when he sleeps; working in the police force takes it toll on Niall, and Zayn hates to see how much Niall seems to have aged in just the short year that he’s been working at the police station. The dim light of the full moon coming from the large window above the bed turns Niall’s blond hair a soft shade of white, his pale skin almost gleaming in the glow that casts the room. Zayn takes a minute or two to sleepily gaze at his boyfriend, and the happiness he feels in the midst of it makes him wonder if it would be worth dragging out the extra art supplies that he keeps in Niall’s flat to sketch a quick drawing. He ultimately decides not, considering that it would take a lot of effort to set up for the task, and doing so would definitely wake Niall up.

Zayn sighs after a moment and shakes himself out of his reverie, remembering why he woke up so early in the first place. He turns back over to reach for his phone, sliding open the messaging app.

[Zayn Malik]: G’morning, Lou. You remember our conversation from yesterday, right?

Zayn stares at his phone for a few minutes, not quite ready to leave the warmth of the sheets and the boy next to him, but when he gets a reply from Louis, he silently slips out of the covers and shuffles into the bathroom.

[Louis Tomlinson]: Unfortunately, I do. Remind me again why I agreed to wake up at the asscrack of dawn? Only for you, Zaynie.

[Zayn Malik]: Cheers, mate. You should be taking notes on the impeccable lengths I go to to please my lover. I’m sure Harry would appreciate even half the effort that I’m putting into this bloody holiday.

[Louis Tomlinson]: Oi, Harry loves the things I do for him on this wretched day! His mouth full of a delicious breakfast in bed of sausage and eggs that yours truly prepared, my mouth full of a delightful other kind of meat...

[Zayn Malik]: Not sure which made me gag more, the thought of your sinful bedroom activities, or the idea of eating anything that you’ve made. Leave the cooking to Harry, please.

[Louis Tomlinson]: Just for being cheeky, I’m rushing you now. Be down here in ten minutes or I might just “forget” you asked for this favour. xx

[Zayn Malik]: Coming soon, your highness.

Zayn finishes up in the bathroom and enters back into Niall’s bedroom, his light snores emanating from the bed. Niall doesn’t wake up until 5:30, which gives him plenty of time to get the goods from Louis and still have enough time to finish setting up for the morning.

Zayn quietly picks up his jacket from the floor from when he tossed it last night, and jumps into a pair of sweats. He isn’t sure who originally owned them; Niall and Zayn practically share all their clothes, always leaving shirts and jeans at each other’s places. Niall wears the clothes Zayn buys because “your clothes always look better on me anyway, Zayn”. Zayn just wears Niall’s because he likes the way they always smell a bit like his blue-eyed boy.

Grabbing his wallet, phone and Niall’s keys (which he won’t miss, Zayn will be back before he’s even up for work), Zayn pads quietly to the end of the hallway, grabbing his shoes and slipping them on as he meticulously turns the lock of the front door to keep it from clicking loudly. The brisk February air slaps at Zayn’s face, sending a jolt through the rest of his body. He closes and locks the door behind him quietly, and then sets down the flight of stairs that lead down to the high street.

* * *

Zayn walks for what seems like miles, but really the cold morning just seems to make everything go slowly. He wonders why he didn’t just _drive_ , but he figures it wasn’t worth the gas; the exercise was probably good for him, anyway. Nobody sane (at least in Zayn’s mind) is up early enough to be outside doing anything, which leaves the road eerily dark and empty. A light fog has settled, turned yellow by the street lights, and everything is silent in the windless daybreak.

Zayn finally reaches his destination, peering up at the large sign that reads “Tomlinson’s Bouquets” above the windows. He can see a light on near the back of the shop, the lack of curtains revealing all that’s going on inside. Zayn opens the door, and cringes slightly at the bright sound of the bell overhead. It’s too early for happy, cheery sounds. Zayn is sulky, especially before the sun’s up, and even more so when it’s cold outside.

“Z, you’re late!” Zayn hears an all-too-familiar accent shout from where the light is. The lilt of Louis’ Yorkshire accent reminds Zayn of his own northern roots, and he grins as the boy appears into sight from the back room, his tiny hands wrapped around a large bundle.

“Afraid not, Lewis. I’m actually right on time. You’d know that too, if you were ever on time to anything yourself!”

Louis scoffs, coming closer into Zayn’s line of view. “It’s called being fashionably late, Zayn!” Louis has a happy glow in his eyes, a cheeky smile playing at his lips. Another light suddenly turns on up above them, and Zayn is confused for a moment as to how it turned on with no switch in sight, until he sees the bouncing set of curls that must be the culprit.

“Zayn! Happy Valentine’s Day!” Zayn’s reply to this is abruptly cut off as his mouth is muffled by Harry’s thick head of hair. “It’s so sweet what you’re doing for Niall; he’s going to love it!”

Zayn hugs Harry affectionately, looking up (Harry towers over everyone at this point; does he ever stop growing?) to get a good glimpse at the mop that his curls have become. Zayn concludes that Harry is currently aiming for a half-indie rocker, half-homeless vibe as he takes in the ripped jeans, the ragged bandana in his hair, and the excessive amount of hippie-looking necklaces that adorn his chest. Harry has this odd way of taking any type of style and somehow making it work for him, and Zayn’s nothing if he isn’t a bit jealous of it.

“Yeah, I hope he does. This is our first Valentine’s Day as a couple, and I just want to make sure he gets that I’m in it for the long run.”

“Relax, Zaynie,” Louis says, placing the wrapped bundle he’d been holding into Zayn’s arms. “That boy would be entertained and endeared by a piece of bubble wrap as a gift. You’ve got everything going for ya.”

Zayn smiles at Louis, grateful for his sudden serious tone amidst all the teasing. He looks down at the bundle in his hands, peeling back the wrapping to see the bouquet he’d personally arranged with Louis over the phone the night prior. It’s bright, made of orange lilies, white roses and green carnations. Really, Zayn knows it probably looks a little ridiculous, but he thinks that if flowers are somewhat of a given for this holiday, that he’s going to do it Niall’s way (which, coincidentally, is the Irish way).

“It looks awesome, Lou. Really, thank you so much,” He hugs Louis and Harry, careful not to squish the flowers in the embrace. “How much did this come out to?”

“Free of charge, my dear lovebird. And before you protest, just think of it as a little Valentine’s Day gift from your other fellow lovebirds.” Louis winks at Zayn, grabbing Harry lightly by the hand and pulling him softly into his side. Harry nods as if to ensure Zayn that there’s no use arguing it, wrapping his big hand around Louis’ tiny waist.

“I have a feeling I’ll be expected to return the favour later on,” Zayn prods cheekily, poking Louis in the stomach.

Louis grins. “Probably, mate. Always gotta keep you on your toes, don’t I? Now get out here before I actually do make you pay. I’m pretty sure I hear my bed calling for me upstairs.” He points to the ceiling, making note of the flat up above. Louis has lived in that flat for as long as Zayn can remember, working in his father’s flower shop down below and eventually taking it over entirely. Zayn never would have thought that Louis would end up staying in a tiny town like this one; but judging by the way Louis looks at Harry, like he’s made of pure gold, like the way Zayn looks at Niall, he can guess why Louis chose to stick around.

Zayn rolls his eyes and cradles the bouquet to his chest, walking back towards the shop door.

“Are we all still getting together this weekend for FIFA and booze?” Zayn calls back to the boys still in the back of the shop.

“Only if you let me pick the alcohol this time!” Louis chides, and yes, Zayn thinks that can be arranged. Anything is better than the last time the group was together, when Harry was the designated bringer of alcohol and the five of them ended up sitting around sipping on piss water for beer. Honestly, what were the rest of them thinking letting _Harry_ bring the booze?

“As long as you don’t let your boyfriend taint your decision!” Zayn laughs, blowing a kiss to both of them as he lets the door shut behind him. Right before it closes completely, Zayn swears he can hear a shout of indignation from Harry, and he grins.

* * *

Zayn slips as quietly up the apartment stairs as he did going down them, and he’s more than relieved to finally reunite with the blessed heating of Niall’s home. _Phase one complete_ , Zayn thinks to himself. He rummages quickly through the kitchen cupboards for a vase, as well as a few saucepans. He places the bouquet into the filled vase and puts it on the centre of the table, pretty and welcoming to everyone who enters the kitchen.

Zayn focuses on his next task. Zayn doesn’t cook much; Niall’s much more handy in the kitchen than he is, and Zayn doesn’t mind doing the washing up if it means saving both their stomachs from a disastrous attempt at a meal. This morning though, he is determined to accomplish the hefty feat of serving the best breakfast Niall’s ever had. Enjoying the Irish theme he somehow got himself into, Zayn had planned on cooking a homemade fry up, recipe courtesy of Niall’s own mum, who had shared it with him in hopes that Zayn “wouldn’t starve her baby boy”.

Zayn pulls all the ingredients out of Niall’s fridge, silently patting himself on the back for managing to keep the idea out of Niall’s mind. Instead of raising suspicion by buying all the needed shopping at once, he purchased everything in the course of a few days, bringing some over each time he visited, and blaming the more outlandish ingredients on sudden cravings. Zayn gets to chopping, cutting, and measuring, and before he knows it he has all the hobs going, the kettle heating up for hot coffee, and it’s suddenly Niall’s wake up time.

Zayn can hear the alarm go off in the bedroom, and he tries to compose his overly eager expression into something neutral. He sees Niall’s shadow across the wall, signalling his presence, and Zayn smiles at his sleepy boy.

“Z...What are ya doing?”

“Cooking,” Zayn reaches across the tiny kitchen and pulls Niall into a warm embrace. Niall’s sleepy hugs could end all wars, he thinks. Niall is pliable and melts into Zayn’s arms, a night owl still way too tired to function in the early breaths of the morning. He plants a kiss in Niall’s bed head and grins at the way his arms wrap lazily around Zayn’s waist. “Happy Valentine’s Day, hun. Sit down, you want some tea?”

Niall yawns, lightly waving off Zayn’s offer. “Gonna shower first instead. Might wake me up a little. I’ll be back for that tea in a few.” Niall heads back into the bedroom, letting his hand slide gently across Zayn’s back as he passes. As Zayn hears the water turn on from the back of the house, he finishes up the last of the cooking. He leaves all the pans on a medium-low heat, intent on keeping the food warm for Niall after his shower. He shuffles to the table and sits down, putting his head down to wait for Niall’s return.

Zayn is so tired. He wants nothing more than to crawl back into bed (and maybe convince Niall to call in sick too, because really, what’s a king-sized bed without someone to cuddle?), but he knows that he’s way behind on some art pieces for Liam that he’s been working on. Liam’s sort of the middleman of the whole art deal operation; Liam gets requests from people for certain paintings or concepts they want done, Liam sends the request to his artist contacts, and whoever offers the quickest deadline gets the job. It’s a good way for unknown artists like Zayn to get their work out there and recognized, Liam keeps twenty percent of the money from the buyers, and everyone goes home happy. Zayn can’t complain, not when his art puts food on the table and pays the rent.

When Zayn dropped out of uni to sell his art instead, his parents refused to support him, kicking him out and telling him that he could come back when “he picked an actual career for himself”. He crashed on friends’ sofas for weeks, trying to find someone, anyone, who would give him a more permanent home, at least until he found a place of his own. One morning after another night on Harry and Louis’ sofa, he woke up to Liam singing in the kitchen, cooking up a feast for breakfast like he owned the place. Really, Liam had known Harry since they were young, and Lou and Haz had invited him over that morning for a cuppa (which apparently, in their eyes, meant that Liam would cook FOR them; judging by Liam’s happy gaze and light hums, he didn’t seem to mind). Zayn talked to Liam for a while, which lead to Liam asking to see Zayn’s artwork, and the rest is history, Zayn supposes.

He doesn’t really think that he’ll ever be famous, or even well-known, but Zayn doesn’t mind, not when the way Niall praises his art means more than any amount of fame ever could.

Zayn doesn’t remember falling asleep, but he senses he’s been out for more than a handful of minutes, judging by the smell that’s now filled the kitchen. He jumps up from his seat and cries out at the sight of the stove. All the food’s turned black and burnt, the eggs are stuck to the pan as if glued there, and it just smells awful. Zayn quickly turns off all the burners and opens the window even though it’s chilly outside.

As if on cue, Niall turns the corner into the kitchen.

“Zayn? What happened? Why does it smell so bad in h—Oh.”

Zayn just blankly looks at Niall, not really sure which emotion he’s currently feeling.

Niall stares back at him for a moment, expression unreadable, and then bursts into a loud laugh.

“Why are you laughing!” Zayn decries, incredulous towards Niall’s reaction.

“Because I’m tryin’ t’ understand why it is that whenever I leave you alone in the kitchen for ten minutes, I come back to a shitstorm,” Niall teases, poking Zayn in the stomach.

“Niallllll,” Zayn moans, throwing his head into his hands. “this isn’t supposed to be _funny_.” He looks back at the mess on the stove and groans again. “I just wanted to cook you a nice home breakfast, you know? It’s Valentine’s Day…” Zayn feels utterly defeated, and judging by the look Niall gives him, it must show on his face as well.

“Z, don’t worry about it,” Niall consoles, bringing Zayn into his arms. He runs his fingers through the hair at the nape of Zayn’s neck, knowing it’s a sure-fire way to comfort Zayn. “It’s just breakfast. We’ll clean up and instead of breakfast, we can go out to dinner tonight, yeah? Make up for it all.”

“Not the same,” Zayn mumbles into Niall’s chest, still sulking. “I wanted to cook YOU something for once in my life. I’m shit.”

“You’re not shit, Zayn. Promise. Now stop pouting. Help me clean this up, babe.”

Zayn sighs, still full of ire and frustration, but decides that maybe Niall’s right, that it isn’t too late for him to turn this whole morning around with a good dinner later on.

* * *

With Niall’s help, the kitchen manages to look cleaner than it did before Zayn started cooking, and he thanks Niall with a long kiss, pressing the blonde boy up against the wall. They stood like that for a while, enjoying the proximity and the taste of the other’s lips. Niall finally pulled away, resting his forehead on Zayn’s and looking downward.

“I hafta get to work, Z.”

Zayn groaned melodramatically, trying to somehow convince Niall to stay home for the day. Niall wiggled out of Zayn’s arms, making his way through the kitchen to pack himself a lunch. Zayn joined him, helping him put snacks into little bags and pulling Niall’s lunch bag out of the cupboard above. This wasn’t even Zayn’s own place, but he felt like he knew it better than his own. Zayn put the packed little cooler onto the kitchen table, next to Niall’s flowers, and Niall put on his shoes.

“I’ll be home early tonight,” Niall informed with a light kiss to Zayn’s lips. “Wanna beat all the other Valentines couples to dinner.”

Zayn smiled and slung the lunch bag over Niall’s shoulder, handing him his wallet. Niall turned towards the table, eyes widening. “How long have those flowers been there?” He asked, picking up the vase and smelling them.

“All morning, you idiot.”

“I just noticed them. Was too busy cleanin’ up yer mess,” Niall pinched Zayn’s hip and twirled the vase around to get a look at the whole bouquet. “I love ‘em, Z. I love the colors. Much better than a bunch of red roses or something.”

Zayn simply smiled, tongue between his teeth, and shoved Niall lightly in the direction of the front door, swatting his bottom teasingly in the process. “Go now, you arse, before I mess up the kitchen again.” As if somehow in on the joke, Niall’s lift Josh honks below to signal his arrival.

Niall cackled that laugh that Zayn loves a lot, placed the flowers back on the table, and hurried down the stairs. Zayn watched him descend and go to the car, and Zayn shut the door and sighed. He shook his head at the kitchen, wondering how he could have been so stupid to fall asleep when the food was still on. He wonders why Niall keeps his incompetent self around sometimes.

Niall never minded if Zayn stayed at his apartment while he was out, but it just feels weird to Zayn to be in it alone. It feels like he’s trespassing, somehow, and so Zayn usually leaves soon after Niall does. He grabs his own car keys and heads out the door, down to the car park. He drives home, letting himself wallow in his stupidity.

Zayn spent the remainder of the morning tidying his own flat, and washing and putting away all the laundry that he’d been putting off for the week. Right around lunchtime, Zayn’s phone buzzes from the kitchen table, and he goes to it to find a few texts from Niall.

[Niall Horan]: zaynnnn  
[Niall Horan]: i feel like a fuckin tomato  
[Niall Horan]: i think im allergic to the flowers u gave me

The next message is a selfie from Niall in his office, face red and eyes runny. His light complexion really makes the whole thing look a lot worse than it probably is, but that doesn’t stop Zayn from feeling like utter shit.

[Zayn Malik]: Fuck. I’m so sorry, Niall.

[Niall Horan]: not ur fault mate. u didnt know

[Zayn Malik]: Do you need like, I don’t know, some medicine or something? I can come bring you some.

[Niall Horan]: no dont worry about it. itd take u too long to get down here. ill be fine please dont worry

[Zayn Malik]: I’m two for two on this whole morning. Nothing I’ve done for you went well.

[Niall Horan]: im sure u wouldntve done it if u wouldve known. chin up love. its okay

Zayn replies with just a kissy face emoji, but he feels shittier than ever.

He messages Louis about the whole predicament, who simply responds with a bunch of laughing emojis, the twat. Harry texts him from his own phone a few minutes later condemning Louis for his reaction and saying he’s sorry for the whole thing, and sometimes Zayn wonders how those two completely opposite souls ended up together.

* * *

Niall comes home a few hours later, and Zayn heads over when Niall lets him know he’s home. He kind of wants to cry when he sees that Niall’s face is still as red, if not redder, than it was earlier in the day. Niall is still cheery as he always is, though, and his grin is enough to make even a severely disappointed Zayn smile back. Zayn gets a cold wet rag for Niall, hoping somehow that it will help his face look less red. He also puts the flowers outside on the balcony; Zayn kind of wants to just throw them away, but Niall won’t let him, saying that even though they’re “malicious little plants”, he still loves the colors and that Zayn got them for him.

Zayn showers, getting ready for their night out, and Niall changes into something more classy (Zayn’s own trousers and shirt, Zayn notices, the cute blonde bastard). He picks something similar, but with more brown instead of the black that Niall chose. They brush their teeth and do their hair together, and there’s something totally endearing about the whole domestic act; Zayn can’t help but feel a rush of some indescribable, euphoric emotion when he thinks about how he could spend the rest of his life doing this with Niall.

They head out the door a few minutes later, keys in Zayn’s hands and Niall’s arm linked through Zayn’s. Zayn opens the car door for Niall like a gentleman, and they both giggle.

“Where are we going?” Zayn asks once they’re both settled into his car.

“Anywhere,” Niall replies.

“Oh NO, not this again. Have we hit that stage in our relationship already, where we say ‘I dunno, where do YOU wanna go?’ and it just goes back and forth until someone finally mans up and makes a decision?”

“That STAGE?” Niall jokes, laughing. “You spend too much time on the internet, Z, reading about relationships and stuff. I’m pretty sure every couple does that. Okay, fine. I’ll pick. Let’s go to that Italian restaurant that just opened up. Somethin’ incredibly cliche and overdone for the most cliche and overdone holiday.”

Zayn nods and laughs, happy that Niall made the decision. He thinks that he should just stay out of making choices for the rest of the night, considering all he’s done today has ended up disastrous.

Zayn pulls out of the car park and onto the main road. Niall fiddles with the radio while Zayn drives; normally Zayn hates when anyone messes with his music, but only Niall seems to be exempt from that rule. He finally settles on a station that plays only love songs, and when Niall claps in excitement, Zayn rolls his eyes in mock annoyance.

“What? You don’t like this song, Zayn?”

“Oh god, it’s the worst,” Zayn chides, but only to ruffle Niall’s feathers.

“Tuuuuurn arounddddd,” Niall sings, off key on purpose and totally louder than necessary. “Every now and then I get a little bit lonely and you’re never coming ‘rounddd.”

Laughing, Zayn decides he can chime into Niall’s horrible attempt at singing along, and adds himself in to make a duet. “Tuuuuurn arounddddd! Every now and then I get a little bit tired of listening to the sound of my tearssss.”

By the time Zayn’s stopped at and drove through two traffic lights, the two boys are in full-fledged duet mode, complete with Zayn’s amazing air drum skills against the steering wheel and Niall singing into his phone, imitating a microphone.

“Once upon a time I was falling in love,” Zayn yells.

“Now I’m only falling apart,” Niall complements.

“There’s nothing I can do, a total eclipse of the heart,” both boys end together, breaking down into a fit of giggles. Niall reaches over and places his hand on Zayn’s left arm, the one not on the wheel. Zayn grabs and squeezes it, smiling at Niall as he looks out the window. 

The light turns green and Zayn moves his foot to accelerate, but nothing happens. Frowning, he looks at the gear shift to see if maybe he didn’t accidentally shift it into neutral, but no, it’s in drive. He tries to accelerate again, and still the car doesn’t move.

“Light’s green, Zayn,” Niall says nicely, thinking maybe Zayn didn’t see.

“I know, Niall. The car won’t go!”

“What d’ya mean it won’t go?”

“I don’t know! The engine stalled!” Zayn presses his foot down again, and as if the car heard them talk, it dies completely.

“Fuck,” Zayn says, slamming his head against the wheel.

“What the hell, Zayn? What did ya do?”

“Nothing, Niall!” Zayn hisses. “Obviously if I had known I would have fixed it before this happened!”

Zayn wants to take back his words immediately after he said them when he sees the reaction Niall gives him, but he supposes it’s not the right time to worry about that right now. The cars behind them are honking, unaware of the technical difficulties. Zayn turns the key in the ignition and the car starts up again, but still the car won’t move when Zayn pushes down on the pedal. Sighing, he turns on the hazard lights and gets out of the car. He waves his hands towards the other lane, letting the other drivers know that his car isn’t going to move anytime soon. The other cars quickly drive around, sending pitying looks his way as they roll past.

“Fucking shit,” Zayn cries out, kicking the car’s tyre in anger. “I can’t believe this is happening right now, on this night of all fucking nights!”

Niall gets out of the car and stands on the pavement, pulling out his phone. “I’m calling Charlie,” he states, tapping the number into his phone and dialling.

“Why?” Zayn asks, a little bit accusingly. He hated owing people, and although Charlie wasn’t the kind of person to expect repayment for a favour, it was just the way Zayn was.

“Because Louis and Harry are away for the night on some gag-worthy cute couple’s getaway, Liam’s out on some date thing already with this new girl he’s into, and no one else we know’s got a car. I hate botherin’ Charlie but they’re the only one we’ve got,” Niall says blankly, showing no emotion. Zayn knows he screwed up by yelling; Niall is never emotionless unless he’s really upset. _Great_ , Zayn thinks, _I’ve even managed to fuck that up, too._

Zayn sighs, admitting silently to himself that Niall’s right. He hears Niall speaking swiftly into the phone, explaining the issue and asking if Charlie could come get them. By Niall’s tone Zayn assumes Charlie obliged, which somehow makes Zayn even sadder. If Charlie had said no, at least he wouldn’t have ruined someone else’s night.

Niall hangs up and looks back at Zayn, pocketing his phone. “Are we gonna ask Charlie to take us to dinner?” He asks, voice still monotone.

“We shouldn’t. The car needs to be towed, and it being a weekend they’re not even gonna get to working on it until Monday. We can’t just leave it here in the road. Plus Charlie would have to come pick us up afterwards, too. We’re gonna have to go home.”

Zayn must look even more defeated than he feels, because even in his irritation with him, Niall comes over and hugs Zayn tightly. Zayn rests his head on Niall’s shoulder, anger and disappointment boiling in his veins.

“Zayn? Why’re ya so upset?” All of Niall’s anger seems to dissolve for the moment when he sees Zayn broken down in his arms.

“Why shouldn’t I be? I just wanted this day to be amazing for you, just one damn day, and everything went to shit. The flowers, the breakfast, I can’t even take you out to dinner without my damn car breaking down on us. I don’t understand, Niall, why this all happened. I feel so shitty. I’m so sorry.”

Niall’s still a moment, and then Zayn can feel the shake of his body as Niall starts to laugh. Zayn looks up, appalled. “You’re laughing?”

Niall just shakes his head at Zayn, unable to fathom why Zayn could possibly be self-deprecating for all of it.

“Zayn, of course I am. I find it so funny that you think you should be sorry for everything that happened today. I enjoyed making fun of your cookin’ skills more than eating the breakfast. I made everyone in the office laugh today because of my red face from those fuckin’ flowers. Your car has needed an oil change and stuff for a while anyway, hasn’t it? So really this is just a good excuse to actually get around to doin’ it. So what if it all didn’t work out perfectly? We’re not in a romance movie, Z. Just the fact that you even went out of your way to do all of this for me makes me feel so good, to know that I have someone who cares tat much about me.”

Zayn just stares at Niall, unable to say anything. Has he breathed in the last minute? He doesn’t know, honestly, not when he’s got such a beautifully kind human being holding him and fucking _laughing_ when he should be just as upset as Zayn for the night being ruined.

“But the whole bloody holiday’s ruined, Niall!”

Niall laughs again. “Honestly, Zayn? I couldn’t care less. Do I love all the things ya did for me? Of course. But I would have been just as happy and content sittin’ with you in front of the telly eating takeout. Don’t ya know I care about you no matter what? You don’t have to spoil me just because it’s a holiday. You don’t hafta spoil me at all.” Niall presses his lips to Zayn’s forehead, rubbing his hands down Zayn’s arms.

Zayn stands in Niall’s arms for a while, watching the cars go by on the road. Honestly, if standing on the pavement with a broken down car and a ruined date were any indication of Zayn’s love life, he probably wouldn’t want any part of it. 

But really, if Zayn’s being honest with himself, he doesn’t mind it as much when it’s Niall that’s waiting for him on that pavement with the car, when it’s Niall that doesn’t care at all that their date got ruined, when it’s Niall that’s been there all along.

* * *

The tow truck came and hitched their car up, after which the driver told them that Zayn could expect a call on Monday about the repairs and cost estimate. Zayn wasn’t much looking forward to the bill that was sure to come out of this—it’s not like he had much wiggle room when it came to money—but Zayn didn’t really want to be anxious about anything else tonight really, so he decided to push it aside until next week.

Charlie arrived shortly after, and Zayn and Niall slipped into their car. Charlie was all dressed up, looking sharp in a well-fitted black suit.

“Aw, Charlie, did we interrupt a date night?” Niall asked, his nervous voice mirroring Zayn’s thoughts from earlier. He would hate for Charlie to have had come in the middle of something important. From the look on their face though, that didn’t seem to be the case.

“Nah, mate, dinner date isn’t until later. Lucky for you two I finished getting ready early, so coming to get you wasn’t an issue.” Charlie looks at the two of them in the backseat, brown eyes warm and happy. If Zayn’s being honest, he thinks Niall’s got competition when it comes to who’s the happiest person he knows. Niall’s all giggles and funny jokes, but Charlie radiates warmth and joy.

Zayn takes in Charlie’s getup, a smile growing on his face. “Nice sense of style we’ve got going on tonight with the tux, mate. I’m digging the bow tie and the totally out-of-place Chucks.”

Charlie laughs, taking a look at Zayn through the rearview mirror. “It’s to maintain my punk, enigmatic flair, dearest Zaynie.”

“Sure, whatever that means,” He sticks his tongue out, evoking a laugh from Charlie’s place at the wheel.

Charlie and Niall banter for a bit while Zayn listens, staring out the window at the streets that zoom by. Oddly enough, in the aftermath of all his disasters, this is the first time all day that Zayn’s felt peaceful. He turns to look at Niall, whose eyes are still ahead, and admires from across the seat. Somewhat subconsciously, he reaches out to brush a hand through Niall’s soft hair, leaning forward to press a kiss to the side of his head.

“I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier,” Zayn whispers when Niall finishes his sentence, his mouth close to Niall’s ear. Niall turns to smile at him, hands pressed to Zayn’s cheeks as he kisses him properly. That’s all the consolation Zayn needs to know Niall’s truly not mad anymore, really.

“Hey, you nasties! Wait till you’re out of my car before you get into it, will ya?”

Niall laughs loudly, and just to be extra cheeky to Charlie for their comment, they spend the rest of the car ride annoying them with obnoxious kisses and touches.

* * *

“Zayn, stop...Oh my god Zayn, stop!” Niall cackles uncontrollably, wiggling out of Zayn’s hold over him against the front door. The two practically ran up the stairs together when Charlie pulled into their apartment block, Niall blowing them a kiss through the passenger side window as Zayn yanked him towards the flat. Zayn had pressed Niall against the door as soon it was shut, mouth roaming over his neck and chin hungrily.

Niall runs to the back of the house, laughing all the while, and Zayn gives chase, catching up to him quickly. He wraps his arms around Niall’s waist and pulls him back to his chest, Zayn’s mouth already on Niall’s neck again.

“Zaynnnnnn. I have a present for ya. Can you wait a minute?”

“Can your _present_ wait a minute? I’m trying to leave my mark here,” Zayn retaliates as he bites into his soft skin. Niall sucks in a breath at first at the sensation of Zayn’s teeth on his skin, but then sighs in content as Zayn presses his lips to the mark, as if it were a present that he was topping off with a bow.

Niall’s neck is a heavenly red, and Zayn smiles in triumph.

“Are ya quite done, Z? Am I allowed to give ya your gift now?” Niall attempts to chastise, but the happy glow in his eyes and the extra thickness in his normally neutral Irish accent say otherwise. Zayn nods in response and Niall rummages through his sock drawer, pulling out a tiny, square box.

“Niall…” Zayn’s eyes are wide, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. He wasn’t prepared for this, there was no way in hell he could have ever prepared for this, actually—

Niall must see the look on his face, because he laughs out, “Shut the hell up, Malik, this isn’t what you think it is. Sheesh, ya really think I’d be sappy enough to propose on _Valentine’s Day_? Try again, love.”

Zayn breathes out finally, and Niall laughs again at Zayn’s worried expression. He presses the box into Zayn’s hand, eyes suddenly dark and expression serious.

Zayn opens the box, and blinks his eyes to see a simple key. It’s black, but it’s branded with gold lettering. _ZM_ , it reads.

He looks up, slightly confused as to what this all means, but Niall’s already prepared to greet his gaze with a wide smile.

“Move in with me, Zayn.”

“Serious?”

“Dead serious. You practically live here already, anyway. I don’t see the point in ya driving back and forth between flats all the time. Let’s save some money, have a lot more time for sex, and be together, Z.”

Zayn grins, tackling Niall into the soft bedspread. He kisses Niall deeply, hands shoved up his shirt and roaming over his torso.

“Only I would be lucky enough to be with a guy who repays my atrocious attempts at seduction with a fucking key to his flat,” Zayn whispers into Niall’s ear, kissing along Niall’s temple and chin.

Niall combs his fingers through Zayn’s hair, blue eyes glowing in the soft light of the lamp from the bedside table.

“And only I would be lucky enough to have ‘im stay.”

And that’s that, really.


End file.
